


Collateral Damage

by Misaya



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Birthday Sex, Bottom Jean Kirstein, College Student Eren Yeager, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Piercings, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misaya/pseuds/Misaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Come on, just let me come, you dickhead!”</p><p>Ah. That answered that question. Okay. Just one peek. It was his birthday, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collateral Damage

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Changed My Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659489) by [Misaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misaya/pseuds/Misaya). 



> Sequel to Changed My Mind, but can also be read stand alone, too.

Eren shoved the apartment door open with his shoulder, toeing off his shoes and kicking them against the baseboard, whistling something from Walk the Moon. The bells from the church a few blocks away rang out their chimes, gonging 12 a neat 12 times after. Loud as they were, they couldn’t drown out Jean’s frustrated sobs from their shared bedroom, and Eren bit at the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing out loud.

“Damn it, Eren! I know you’re home!” Jean shouted, his voice breaking on the last word. Eren half-considered taking a peek into the bedroom, just a quick glimpse. He wanted to see Jean a wreck, his wrists reddened from tugging against the silky fetters, mouth swollen from biting at his lower lip to stifle his cries and sobs, a flush spilling across his face like poppies through water.

And then there was the matter of his cock. Eren had been half hard thinking about it, all throughout his professor’s dreary explanation of capacitors and resistors, in series and in parallel. Had he come? He’d wondered frantically, all but darting out of the lecture hall before his professor had even finished his last sentence. Would he walk in to find Jean writhing on the mattress, tugging the fitted sheets all out of order, the blankets rumpled in a pile on the floor, come drying on his stomach and his cock still flushed, greedy and aching for another orgasm? Jean hated it when Eren even hinted at touching him after he’d come, had kicked him out of bed for so much as breathing on him the wrong way, and Eren would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t excited to get back and unwrap his present. So to speak.

“Come on, just let me come, you dickhead!”

Ah. That answered that question. Okay. Just one peek. It was his birthday, after all.

It was even more glorious than he’d previously imagined.

Jean had kicked the blankets and pillows off to puddle in a heap on the floor. His lips were swollen, spit slick, and even as Eren watched, Jean’s tongue flicked out to swipe across his lips again, the metal piercing glinting briefly in the sunlight before disappearing again. His eyes were closed, eyelashes wet and clumped together, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. His wrists, as Eren had expected, were ringed red and sore from tugging at the scarves, and his fingers, curled into a fist, had left white crescents in his palms.

His cock had smeared wet across his stomach, twitching under Eren’s scrutiny. Flushed and aching, and Eren stared at it hungrily, his gaze lingering on the rosy, weeping head, tracing the way it curved slightly to the left. Greedy, trailing down to where the bright green string disappeared inside him, twitching and slapping against Jean’s thigh with every squirm. It buzzed, stopped, buzzed louder, paused. Buzzed.

“Gonna stare at my dick all day?” Jean snarled at him, and Eren’s eyes flicked up, resting appreciatively on Jean’s pierced nipple, the small hoop gleaming silver against his skin, before studying the hickeys he’d left on Jean’s neck, a trail of incriminating strawberries sucked dusky into his skin. Jean was glaring at him when Eren’s gaze finally met his, and Eren couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his throat.

“What, you think this is funny, asshole?” Jean snapped, almost in tears. “I swear to God, I’ll break up with you if you don’t get me off right this instant.”

Eren grinned, tossing his backpack onto his chair and rolling out the kink in his shoulder from the weight of his engineering texts. “You don’t mean that,” he said, smiling good-naturedly and patting Jean’s thigh absentmindedly, ignoring the way Jean canted his hips angrily towards him in a desperate attempt for friction. Jean’s cock grazed against Eren’s forearm, slick against his wrist, and Eren patted it comfortingly for half a second, just long enough for Jean to close his eyes and tilt his head back at the promise of some long-awaited relief.

“You hungry?”

Jean’s eyes shot open as Eren sat back, pulling his hand away, licking at the flat of his palm contemplatively. “I – what?” he sputtered, too confused to be indignant.

“You didn’t have breakfast,” Eren pointed out, hopping off the bed, the springs squeaking. “I’ll make tacos.”

“You fucker,” Jean shouted at him, kicking frantically at the bed and kicking off the last remaining pillow. “Get your ass back in here right now, or I swear to God –“

“Yeah, yeah,” Eren waved casually over his shoulder, tugging off his jacket and draping it haphazardly over his desk. “You’ll break up with me. I know, I know.”

* * *

 

Jean wasn’t pouting. No. He didn’t pout, not ever, not even when his pet hamster Ruffles had died from dehydration. They’d had a lovely funeral in the backyard, burying her in a shoebox, and he’d just happened to have a lot of sand in his eye or something. That was the only explanation.

But he really could have killed Eren. With his bare hands, if need be, had his fingers not been sore from curling into such tight fists. This was cruel and unusual punishment, and had it not been Eren’s birthday, Jean probably would have kicked him straight in the solar plexus when he’d hopped up on the bed.

Buzz. Buzz. A pause that only made the infuriating pleasure boiling in the pit of his stomach that much more excruciating. Buzz. Jean whined, his hips jolting up into nothingness, his cock twitching between his thighs in desperation. His wrists were sore from tugging against their bonds, but the silk scarves held tight, and he threw his head back at a particularly prolonged series of vibrations that left him shaking and sobbing, a boneless, writhing mess on the bed. He’d been ready to come yesterday, and the vibrator had driven him so close to the edge a few times that he’d felt sure he could taste it, just one more millisecond, and then it had fallen still. Silent.

His lips were sore, and he wasn’t looking forward to taking a glance at himself in the mirror later to see the collateral damage.

He wasn’t crying. No. Jean Kirstein didn’t cry. He sniffed, miserably, eyelashes wet against his cheeks. The flat smelt like taco spice and frying meat.

Buzz. He twitched, clenching his thighs together, biting back a sob and arching upwards, heels flat on the mattress. Wriggling, the remote getting trapped beneath one of his thighs, the outline of the buttons making indentations of chevrons on the underside of his skin.

Click.

The buzzing refused to relent, strong and overwhelming, the egg pressing right up against Jean’s prostate, and he choked back a cry, sobbing in earnest now at the promise of finally getting to come.

One second, two, ten, Eren announcing that lunch was ready. Pleasure bubbled molten in the pit of Jean’s stomach, his lip drawn between his upper teeth, biting white, eyes squeezing shut and counting the colors of the phosphenes dancing behind his eyelids. Red, blue, green, white, white, white, breaking and sobbing curses at Eren, who’d just appeared in the doorway with a plate of tacos. Jean writhed desperately on the mattress, coming all over himself, spurts of silver spilling across his stomach and chest.

A clink, as Eren hurried over, setting the plate down on a desk, clicking off the vibrator once Jean had settled onto the bed again. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to the head, still leaking a last few pearls of come, and Jean whined, twitching and nudging him away with a weak knee. He reached up, undoing the knots that held Jean’s wrists to the bed posts, and Jean’s hands fell limp to his sides.

“Hey babe, you okay?” Eren asked, stroking fingers through damp hair, leaning forward to pepper soft kisses across Jean’s face.

“I’m dead,” Jean mumbled, rolling over onto his side and curling up like a shrimp. “You killed me. Bury me with my student loans.”

Eren smiled, patting Jean’s ass fondly. It was a rather nice ass, he ruminated, pats turning to squeezes turning into kisses to Jean’s hipbone turning into a bite that had Jean yelping and kicking him out of bed.

Eren rubbed his head ruefully from where he’d hit it against a laundry hamper, grinning up at the scarlet crescent that decorated the swell of pale flesh, and offered Jean a taco and an apologetic kiss, both of which were grudgingly accepted.


End file.
